


Again, Again

by iamfitzwilliamdarcy



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Background reflection on Dick and Jason and the Meaning of RobinTM, Excessive mentions of the movie Miracle, Gen, if ur a commie i'm sorry but they talk about commie bastards alas it's the only way to watch Miracle, quarentine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 09:21:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfitzwilliamdarcy/pseuds/iamfitzwilliamdarcy
Summary: Tim, during an intensive cardio training session, makes a comparison to the 1980s American hockey team.Quarantine Prompt Suggestion: Bruce teaching bb Tim how to run and build stamina
Kudos: 22





	Again, Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarlightCompass (IdentityConstellations)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdentityConstellations/gifts).



“It’s like that movie, huh, Mr. Wayne,” Tim panted, bent over, shoulders crowding his ears. That he could even breathe, Bruce thought, was a testament to the previous month’s intense cardio regime. 

“Bruce,” he corrected, as he had multiple times a day during that month-long cardio regime. Then, almost amused but still flat, “What movie?”

Tim panted a moment. 

“Stand up,” Bruce told him. “Let your diaphragm expand.” 

Tim shot him a “what’s a diaphragm” look, and Bruce vowed to actually look at the kid’s school records he’d been sent a few weeks back. “ _ Miracle _ ,” he said, straightening like he was asked. 

Bruce raised an eyebrow. 

“You know,” Tim offered, breaths, and so words, still inputting and outputting in short breaths. He had straightened, at least, and put his hands on his hips. “The hockey one. Where we beat commie bastard ass.”

Tim’s opinions on the Soviet Union started Bruce so much he actually snorted in amusement. Tim beamed at him. 

“I missed that one,” Bruce confided. 

“No!” Tim protested, eyes widening. “Robin didn’t make—,” he cuts off abruptly, mouth clamping shut. 

Bruce clenched his jaw so hard he was glad he’d stopped seeing his dentist in high school. 

Hastily, Tim corrected, “They lose real bad. The US I mean. Cause like they’re not pros and stuff. And the coach, Herb Brooks, he uh, he makes them y’know—,” 

Tim struggled to get the next word out “suicides.” He smiled sunnily at Bruce, despite the fact he was still gasping air in. “And then they realize they’ve been on their own team and not  _ the  _ team.”

“For personal glory?” Bruce clarified, and Tim nodded, triumphant. 

The red in his face was fading, and Bruce tossed him a water bottle. Tim squeezed a little water into his mouth, not too much, already learning, and swished it around before spitting it out again. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, eyeing the bottle but breathing, controlled, if heavy, through his nose and out through his mouth. “They first start saying they play for their college teams. But after all those suicides, they know they play for  _ America.”  _

“And that’s how they beat the commie bastards,” Bruce repeated, flatly. 

“Yeah,” Tim agreed happily. “It’s kinda like Robin.” He squeezed the water into his mouth and swallowed this time. “Like it’s bigger than yourself.”

Bruce’s throat constricted. “Robin,” he started. “Robin isn’t…”

Tim stared up at him expectantly, but all Bruce could see was Dick flipping off buildings or standing on tiptoes, a “Gee whiz, Batman, wouldja look at that,” on his tongue, filling the silences where Bruce hadn’t realized anything was missing. He could only see Jason’s grin the first time he put the outfit on, his absolute surety that Robin was magic, the time he’d broken a thug’s nose and looked so shocked he did it he’d made up by gloating every night out for a week straight after. 

“Robin is a person,” he managed, finally.

Tim gave him one of those exaggerated “well, duh” looks only 12 years could pull off.

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re all  _ people.  _ And Batman and Robin are a  _ team _ .” 

Bruce didn’t answer, but looked up to the sky, trying not to think too much about it. Tim wasn’t wrong, but those were the things--well, they held far more responsibility than an Olympics hockey game from decades before.

Bruce raised the whistle to his lips again. If the Americans needed to be prepared to play against the Soviets in 1980, how much more did Robin need to be prepared to fight with Batman? 

Tim saw, and was off on the next suicide run before Bruce could even say, “Again.” 


End file.
